Death March
by Lizard Pie
Summary: A BoZ leads home a drunken Hao, giving the monk time to contemplate his new role in life. The unofficial sequel to Tough Love.


AN: The first BoZ fiction ever, as far as I've seen. Written in my normal, depressing musing style, because I'm too lazy to break it. When Faust and Eliza are speaking to eachother, as in all my fictions, it's entirely in German.

Taro: Brunette

Hoshi: Blonde

Lebewohl: goodbye

Samsara: The continual cycle of death and re-birth believed in by Buddhists

"So then, he was all like 'spare me' and 'I gots kids'…" Hao went on, using wide hand motions and laughing all too loud.

"Yes, Hao-Sama," Hoshi said politely, forcing a smile, "As you've said many times now." He shifted to get a better grip on the arm over his shoulder.

The rest of the group was going to _kill_ them by sunrise for this.

They were the ones who'd held the midnight concert down at the bar. They were the ones who'd reluctantly argued with the doorman for practically an hour to let Hao in (because there was a chance he 'might feel like showing up').

But they'd been _playing_. Completely occupied. They couldn't allow or prevent him drinking -as if they could if they'd been sitting right next to him.

Hoshi didn't even know why he cared. The… however you would describe Hao –a man trapped in a boy's body, maybe- had sent out the order that they were disposable. Had sat by idly –even apparently laughed- as they were thrown around like corpse marionettes.

He should just dump the guy on the side of the street. Save himself from the embarrassment of carrying around a drunk.

The problem was that, for some reason he couldn't put his finger on, he still cared what happened to him. Didn't want his name disgraced by someone seeing him like that.

Maybe he still believed in that all-shaman world –or whatever it really was.

Maybe over being the chauffer over the whole trip, swapping idle chit-chat, they'd bonded on some level.

Maybe he sensed something good in the soul he could no longer ignore was black.

It could be a combination of all of them, or something else entirely.

But, Hoshi supposed, it didn't really matter.

He wondered if Hao actually got hangovers –or, for that matter, if he remembered what one felt like. Should he get something…?

Not like he had the money, he reminded himself. A few hours from now, when Taro and he actually had the time to split the earnings, he would. But until then…

There might be more trouble if he did nothing and forced Hao to fight incapacitated when he'd gotten so 'under BoZ's watch'. He was sure that his former group-mates would have a more than a few things to say about that. On top of whatever Hao did, of course.

He groaned slightly as he heard footsteps behind him. It was four in the morning… who could be…

It was that doctor from yesterday –the one with some accent he couldn't exactly place. European something-or-other… Walking near, but not exactly with, the woman they'd figured was at least his girlfriend. This was just a little odd, considering how she was practically draped all over him at every other time.

The wheels began to spin that a doctor would probably know at least one remedy for a hangover. Maybe even give it for free.

Hoshi scolded himself for being such an opportunist –trying to take advantage of someone's good nature like he wanted to. He'd get a real bad deal the next couple lifetimes… though with everything he'd already pulled in this one, it was already pretty much granted. Would one more…

Whatever. He'd work it out in meditation later.

"Hey… um…" He snapped his fingers as he tried to think of the name –and failed. "Doctor guy!"

The man stopped and looked Hoshi over for a moment before smiling nervously, "Around here, I also respond to Faust." The couple's eyes drifted down to Hao's flushed face. "You… need something to do with this?"

"Yeah… he's got a fight tomorrow and…"

Faust nodded, pulling out a pen to try and get Hao to follow it with his eyes.

"He's too young for this…" Eliza said in German, mouth pulled tight, "Not even legal back home, I'd bet."

"You're probably right," he told her with a shrug, "This is what happens when you have too many children running around with no supervision." He turned back to Hoshi, "How much did he drink, exactly?"

Hoshi shrugged, readjusting the arm, "Three or four shots that I know of, probably more. Wasn't really in the position to watch him, ya know?"

Faust nodded once again as he came to the conclusion of the level of intoxication he was dealing with. After pulling out a scrap of paper from his pocket and scribbling a list on it, he offered it back to his wife.

"I need all of this."

Eliza quirked an eyebrow, but held her ground. "Get it yourself."

Faust paused for a while. When he finally spoke, his voice had a slight chill, "Eliza…"

"You really don't get how far you're pushing it today, do you?" she said flatly, "Fill your own damn prescription."

He pulled his mouth tight. "_Eliza_. We will discuss this later. Do _not_ make me force you, because I will." He looked over his shoulder, "Please, now. Just fill it."

Eliza scoffed angrily before snatching the list away. "This is the _only_ thing you get for a long while." She turned on her heel and stormed off to the store.

After she was gone, Faust smiled nervously. "I apologize… it has been a long day…"

Hoshi shrugged, "Been a long day for everyone, honestly." He motioned with his head to Hao. "Things like this are saying the next one's not gonna be good, either."

She stomped back, dumping the shopping bag in his lap, and then head off to the hotel. Faust shook his head and began to combine ingredients into some sort of grey liquid.

"Make sure he drinks all of this," Faust told him. "I'd give it, but…" He motioned with a jerk of a thumb to her retreating form, "I need to make things better. Lebewohl." He smiled and waved before rushing down the street.

Hoshi bit his lip, "Wait…!" He dug through his pocket for anything of value.

What he found wasn't great, but it would do.

"Here." He tossed over a CD.

Faust caught it and shook his head. "You don't need to…"

Hoshi looked him in the eye seriously. "Take it, or I'm screwed in samsara, k?"

Faust chuckled before smiling lightly.

He ran off after his… whatever she was… leaving Hoshi alone with Hao once again. He sighed and looked over what had once been a perfectly fine bottle of water. The gray spirals were still moving around as the powder adjusted to it.

Hao was watching it, almost mesmerized.

"Alright," Hoshi told him with a smile, letting his voice drip with sugar, "Time for a drink."

Hao's eyes went wide as he turned his head upward, "I don' wanna!"

He frowned and unscrewed the cap. "Nope, not gonna work. If you're gonna drink like a man, you're gonna take medicine like a man."

Like the child that he… sort-of was, Hao clamped his mouth shut and turned away.

The monk rolled his eyes angrily –he was gonna die if Hao remembered any of this –or if anyone who shouldn't was watching. But, it wasn't like he had many other options.

So… goodie.

He clamped Hao's nose shut with his thumb and forefinger. The two stared each other down for a long while before Hao was forced to open his mouth for air.

As soon as the opportunity presented itself, Hoshi stuck the bottle in the open mouth and began to pour. When Hao tried to jerk away, his head was clamped in place.

Not soon enough, the bottle was empty and Hao was free to pretend to die from poison.

"You're mean," he forced out through coughs, shooting a glare upward.

Hoshi muttered 'yeah, so are you' under his breath because he would never dare say it at normal volume –even with how drunk Hao was at the moment.

With just the slightest smile, the monk offered his hand down. "Come on, Hao-sama. Let's get you to bed."

Hao looked him over as critically as he could with unfocused eyes, but allowed himself to be pulled up and led.

Hoshi supposed the lack of drunken boasting was sulking.

Vaguely, he wondered if the man-child he was carrying had actually had a childhood in this lifetime. There was a definite possibility that he hadn't, if the stories about that green-haired X-Law kid were to be believed.

If he'd been in the right mood, this thought might have saddened him.

Of course, if he'd been in the right mood, they might have been at the room by now instead of slowly trudging along.

The point was, he just wasn't.

For the first time, he realized –or, probably more correctly, he admitted- that he didn't like this kid. Didn't like the way people would kiss his feet, and then the ground he'd just walked on.

Didn't like what he'd personally become since he'd joined Hao's mob.

How long had it been since he'd actually pulled out his guitar and _written_ something? Not even something of any real value, just _something_?

It had used to be almost one or two full songs a week –with a few starts of others here and there.

Then it became bi-weekly.

Became monthly.

Became nothing.

As soon as he and Taro had the money for plane tickets, they were out of there. Out of the tournament, out of the country and back to the temple.

Get back to the roots and beliefs they'd been pointedly ignoring as they quested for blood; probably spend a year or two hidden away to scrub all this greed and hatred off themselves.

That was exactly what they should do, but who knew if it would actually happen. They might never wake up tomorrow.

Or wake up just to be killed –so they knew it was nothing natural.

There was always at least one set of eyes open in this place.

The more he thought about that and everything else that this stupid walk had brought up, the more he just didn't care.

Because of this little two-year joy-ride, this lifetime was a complete wash. Which was really depressing –considering he'd thought this one could be it.

After all… he was a 'holy man' this time.

Maybe after this was done… he'd just be too disgusted with himself to go back. He knew as well as he needed to that Taro was definitely holding that option open.

So… BoZ might break up, or it might stay the same way it always had. It was all up in the air…

Being grabbed for by this little monster.

He really just… didn't want to think anymore. He just wanted this entire thing over with.

With the greatest relief he'd had in a while, he reached the hotel's side door and slipped them inside.

i!i!i!i!i!i!i!

The monks were more playing with their food than anything else at the moment.

Taro put his fingers to his temple, "You brought your song books, right?"

"Not all of them," Hoshi shrugged, "How much more?"

"How many did you bring?"

"How much more?"

Taro sighed, piling his potatoes with his fork. "Two or three shows, if we don't eat much. That would include fake passports and green cards and all that… How many…" His eyes drifted over, "Hao's coming."

The two froze, slowly turning their heads as their leader casually made his way over.

He was smiling just slightly, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.

"I heard what you did last night," he said smoothly, eyes almost searching Hoshi for something.

"You did?" the monk asked, trying to keep himself just as calm. He didn't care if he died, he reminded himself. He was going to have to start again at some point anyway…

"Yeah." He ran his tongue inside his cheek as he pretended to be bored. "For right now… and I don't know how long that'll be… you'll live." He pat the table twice and walked back to where he'd been eating.

The two let out a breath neither had known they were holding.

"Sometime today… Let's write something."

Taro raised his eyebrows, "Like what?"

Hoshi simply shrugged, "Doesn't matter, really. Just something."


End file.
